“I’d be happy to live till 80 as long as I was comfortable
and in good health. Mind you, ask me again on the eve of my 80th birthday.
Even so, I hope we don’t all start living to be 120. I’m not sure I’d cope with
another 60 years.” (Bonnie Tyler, American singer)
I was
really left no choice, I had to make a choice. I could either get up from my
miserable life and carry on as best as I could or I could keep trying to get
the fuck off this planet. Whether one completes, or does not complete, the act
of suicide, you can assume that this individual has come to a crossroads in
their life. It just goes without saying
that if you give up on living, living will give up on you. Having decided to
move forward and suffer, I slowly started seeing life differently. I was so
surprised that something good actually came out of something so sad and
wretched. I stopped using the past to insulate myself, rather I paid attention
to the lessons it revealed. I quit all the stressing about the future. It was
coming no matter how I felt or what I thought. Regardless of what actions I
took, it came all the same. I started living for each day, a process that took
time and commitment. I realized that all I have is here in the now. Yesterday
is gone, tomorrow never comes and the life that you lead should be measured in
moments rather than in hours, or days or even years. Today became my focus.
Granted, I don't always celebrate the here and the now. Something always
manages to stand in my way and quite often I fail when I should be
flourishing. I don’t always rest in the
moment. Sometimes there is no seizure. Despite my lack of righteousness, I
still find meaning in everything around me. When you stop and smell the roses,
the fragrance is sweet. I could be cynical and a defeatist, clinging to
theories and theologies. I prefer to find what I need in the beauty of this life,
in the simple things. This life that I have been given (a few times) is but
that moment’s time. Just existing appears to be a gift. When each dawn breaks, when all is right in
your heaven, you should have more than enough reason.
Most people
seem to have such disdain regarding their birthday. This May 15th, I
will turned 58 years of age. I don’t feel that old. I certainly don’t feel
anywhere near 50. I don't look that old. I certainly do not look anywhere near
50. Regardless, I am 58 years old, all the same. Ironically, I felt much older
than I am now when I was 18. I’m not really young at heart, rather very much
aware of the world around me. They keep telling me I have an old soul but I
think I am just tired. Honestly, I couldn’t give a shit less. My age is a
number and I don’t do math. Every birthday has become more of a testament to
survival than a commemoration of some imaginary significance. Apparently, waking
up not dead is a pinnacle of sorts. My birthday is a marker, but not just any
marker. It stands as one more year that I am here against all odds. Each
anniversary passes by the grace of God. I could not ignore the reality even if
I tried. I once woke up thinking I was dead, then found out that I should be. This
changes a man, at least it changed this man. It made me think in terms of
reasons, in terms of purpose and the
consequences had I failed to take the opportunity to begin again. Every gift I
am given, every candle I blow out is icing on the proverbial cake. I can't help
wondering how different the world would be without me in it and how privileged
I feel to carry on. Every 15th of May I find myself, once again, recognizing
that I live a wonderful life. The candles on my cake will prove it.
“You know you're getting old when the candles cost more than
the cake.”
(Bob Hope, American comedian)
I have fond
memories of every birthday I have known since the age of 7, even the bad ones.
I can look back and I can picture a different time and a different place for
each one. It’s like an otherland but with streamers and balloons and
occasionally presents. I can get lost in these memories. They represent the age
of my innocence, the end of just that and my trying so hard to keep going in spite
of it all. One year, my brothers took me and a few friends to the movies as
part of my party. Blazing Saddles was
the perfect mixture of comedy and gross humour. We all laughed so hard that I
still can hear it in the back of my mind, although much more soft on the
volume. One year, I added to my Big Jim collection. I could not have been more
surprised. The action figure had many accessories, and the Big Jim camper I got
for Christmas needed more. All I wanted that birthday was the Big Jim Jeep and
attachments. I coveted them so when I opened the gift from my parents, I was
not disappointed. My folks always made birthdays an event in our home. I spent
one birthday in prison for a dangerous driving charge. I was well liked by the
other prisoners and not for the reason you might think. Somehow discovering
what day it was, they presented me with a tower of butter pads topped with a
lit match. I was stunned by my faux birthday cake. It is never a good idea to
sing in jail, so the standard fare was a little lacking. I didn’t know what to
say so I said thank you and that was it. It was an odd experience, one I have
never been sure of. I guess it pays to be kind, even on a prison ward. One year,
I spent my birthday walking the streets of Hollywood alone. I was broken, quite
fractured and very far from home. Still, I got to see a hooker toss her cookies
on Vine. Apparently, she was full. I got to check out Beverly Hills , even though I had no money to
spend there. I got to see Dallas
“You must live in the present, launch yourself on every
wave, find your eternity in each moment. Fools stand on their island of opportunities
and look toward another land. There is no other land; there is no other life
but this.”
(Henry David Thoreau, American philosopher)
You should
live each day as if it was your birthday. I think I read that somewhere. Seems
like an awful lot of work for someone to have to do on their birthday. Personally,
I’d rather live each day as if I were rich. On my birthday, I always end up
rather ill after eating most of my birthday cake. Who wants to live each day
like that? I prefer pie anyway. Sure, the presents are nice but who wants to
hear that silly song over and over, day after day? The noise, oh the noise. Turning
21, over and over, would be great but turning 85, over and over, would suck the
big one. I assume it wouldn’t be hard to do. I’m not sure that never aging
would be something you get used to. Life isn’t like Groundhog Day. After everything that has happened to me, I doubt I
would want to relive anything from my past, let alone such an irrelevant repetition.
I’d rather just sit here with my now and wait to die. Growing older isn’t worth
your soul. Things are supposed to get better with age, not bitter. Each
birthday should be an example of mind over matter. In fact, “If you don't mind,
it don't matter” (Satchel Paige). I have given up counting the years. I much
prefer to count the joy and rest in that. I don’t want to know what old age
feels like. I choose to stay young. Honestly, I have rarely felt older than 21
years of age. My spirit is very much intact. It took me years to realize that
it takes a very long time to become young. So it’s my birthday. I’d rather have
pie.
“I was forced to live far beyond my years when just a child,
now I have reversed the order and I intend to remain young indefinitely.” (Mary
Pickford, American Actress)
Photo
May 15th, 2010
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